


The Unspoken Bond

by talesofsymphoniac



Category: Tales of Series, Tales of Zestiria
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, Complete, Cuddles, Developing Relationship, During Canon, Epilogue, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Missing Scene, Pre-Canon, Pre-Slash, Resolved Romantic Tension, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-27
Updated: 2016-09-16
Packaged: 2018-08-11 09:32:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7885840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/talesofsymphoniac/pseuds/talesofsymphoniac
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It wasn’t something they’d ever talked about, this thing between them. Sorey couldn’t say how long it had been there, flitting on the edges of every conversation, every casual touch. He’d wondered about bringing it up, a few times. He’d entertained fantasies of whispers and fond words and closeness, but in the end, he restrained himself. Somehow, bringing this thing into the spotlight would spoil it, so he let it hang, living in the space between their bodies and the moments when their eyes caught."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Promise

Sorey wiped the sweat from his brow, surveying the scene before him with pride. The sun was beating down, as it had been during most of their two-day trek. This was the farthest he and Mikleo had ever been outside Elysia; Gramps had given them special permission when they explained to him that, if their conclusions were correct, the ruins of a city referred to as “Landevale” in the Celestial Record were only a few days' walk from their village. It had been a painstaking journey, but here was the fruit of their labors. Above them were the remains of a city, likely difficult to see to an untrained eye. Any buildings that used to exist had long since collapsed and vanished with time, but there were smaller details that the author of the Celestial Record had indicated: etches of stairs leading up hills, fallen columns and structural supports that had survived the ages. Sorey was sure that if they examined more closely, they would find tools and other smaller evidences of human life.

Sorey, his exhaustion forgotten, let his pack slide down his pack and ran up the hill, calling excitedly to Mikleo as he did so. He knew that Mikleo would be right behind him, following him at a much slower pace with an indulgent smile.

As he sped forward, he saw that more of the city had remained than he’d initially thought. Across the ground were stone foundations of buildings, characteristic of human rather than seraphic architecture, that had once been magnificent, at least judging by their size.

Atop the hill, he stopped at the edge of one of the foundations. An object was half-buried in the dirt near what had probably once been a residence. Sorey kneeled next to it, carefully pawing at the ground around it. As more of the object was revealed, Sorey grew more excited; this edge looked to be the hard spine of a book, and that one was the edge of pages. He kept at it, slowly unearthing the tome.

“Sorey!”

He stood instinctively at the sound of Mikleo’s voice. “What is it?” That tone could only mean Mikleo had found something amazing. Mikleo was running up the stairs with as much excitement as Sorey'd had earlier, and when he reached him, he had to pause, huffing and puffing. Sorey reached for the canteen he kept at his belt, offering water which Mikleo accepted eagerly. His face was flushed in exertion and excitement both, and Sorey knew that when Mikleo opened his eyes, they would be sparkling beautifully with elation.

“I found carvings,” Mikleo began, still breathing heavily. “On one of those pillars, over there.” He gestured absently behind him. “Not human writing, though.” He paused, letting the anticipation build for a moment, smiling with the secret he held. Then: “Seraphic.”

Sorey’s eyes widened. They had seen evidence of a seraphic language before, a variant on the ancient language that had developed as seraphim had begun separating themselves from humans during the Age of Disappearance. It had been developed as a sort of cipher; while the symbols were different from those used by humans during that time, it was spoken just the same as the ancient language.

This was not a city built by seraphim. The city’s architecture, at least what he’d seen of its remains, were characteristically human. According to Sorey and Mikleo’s research, Landevale was likely one of the last cities to lose contact with the seraphim, about two thousand years ago. These writings could be the confirmation they had needed.

“That’s amazing! That means--”

“Not only did humans and seraphim coexist at one point, it looks like they lived together, in the same city.”

“Just like us,” Sorey said, not at all put out at being interrupted.

Mikleo considered. “If they lived together in the same city, it’s probably safe to assume that at least some of them must have had personal relationships, rather than just humans worshipping seraphim as deities. But that’s just speculation.”

“Well, we only just got here!” Sorey said eagerly. “I bet we’ll figure it out, especially if we can translate those writings.” He cocked his head in an unspoken question.

Mikleo shook his head. “If we can get some of this writing back to Elysia, I have a few books that I think would work, but I can’t do it off the top of my head like this.” He paused, frowning. “I guess we’ll have to copy it down as best we can. I don’t think we can lug a whole pillar back.”

Sorey laughed, his lips quirking in eager excitement. “Well, we can figure that out later. Look, I found something, too.” He waved Mikleo down to where he had been kneeling, so he could see what Sorey had been investigating.

Mikleo pursed his lips. “You could have told me you beat me to it.”

“What?” Sorey looked up at him, then back down at the cover of the book that had been revealed. Now that he looked closer, he could see that the title was written with a different set of characters than the ancient language used. Now that Mikleo had pointed it out, it was obvious that they were seraphic in origin. “Oh, yeah. I found the book, but I hadn’t put together that the title was written in a seraphic alphabet yet. I guess it’s a tie!”

Sorey felt an unexplainable surge of joy as Mikleo tried to hide the smile blooming on his face, shaking his head and turning his attention back to the half-covered book. Sorey finished digging it out, finding the edge of another in the process. “Mikleo, look!” He struck the second book, clearing the surrounding dirt with abandon.

“Careful!” Mikleo exclaimed, grabbing at his shoulder. “Who knows how old these are!”

Sorey kept at it, gentler this time. “I know, I know. But look, they’re all so well-preserved.” For the first time, he stopped and wondered about that very fact. “How is that possible?” He turned to Mikleo. “Maybe a seraphic arte?”

Mikleo shrugged, taking over for Sorey and fully unearthing the first book. “Could be. In that case, someone must have really wanted to keep these safe.” The pages were stuck together by their years compressed underground, making opening it a challenge. Sorey watched Mikleo’s careful movements as he turned to the first page.

“I can read this one!” Mikleo tilted his head to look at Sorey, eyes shining like amethysts. “The cover is that seraphic alphabet, but this is written in the ancient language.”

Sorey took a seat next to him, wriggling with anticipation. “What does it say?”

“Hang on, give me a second…” Mikleo narrowed his eyes, concentrating on deciphering the handwritten text before him. Sorey closed his eyes, smile fixed on his face, and he listened to the familiar sound of Mikleo’s voice.

_“When your smile first surprised me_  
_I felt my entire being tremble,_  
_But what had subdued my spirit,_  
_At first I did not know._

_When your gaze fell to me_  
_I felt my soul soften._  
_But what this feeling might be,_  
_At first I did not understand._

_What vanquished me forever_  
_Was a much sadder charm,_  
_And I did not know that I loved you_  
_Until I saw your first tear.”_

Mikleo paused, and Sorey looked up. “It’s poetry,” Mikleo said simply, and Sorey was fascinated by the way his cheeks pinked. “See, it rhymes in the ancient language.” He repeated the first stanza in its original language, the words flowing melodically from his tongue. Mikleo cut himself off, his blush darkening. Sorey almost asked him to continue; he could have listened to the beautiful lines of poetry in Mikleo’s voice all day.

“Is it all by the same person?” He asked instead.

Mikleo turned a page. “It all looks like the same handwriting,” he said, scanning the faded text. He tilted his head up, hesitant. “I can read more, but we should probably take advantage of the daylight and keep looking around.”

Sorey nodded, slightly disappointed in spite of Mikleo’s logic.

The rest of the daylit hours were spent combing through the remnants of Landevale. They were able to find a few more intact pillars, similar to what Mikleo had discovered, with seraphic runes, copying down the text to the best of their ability. It would have to do, at least until they could return. They found what Mikleo guessed used to be a system for the transport of water throughout the city, human in design but only usable with seraphic artes, further proof that this was once a city of both humans and seraphim.

As the sun began setting, however, Sorey found himself eager to set up camp and revisit the book they’d discovered. Sorey lit a fire while Mikleo began studying the book again, not reading aloud, but making notes as he went. While Mikleo worked, Sorey went back to the corner where he’d initially discovered the tome, digging around in an effort to unearth any other materials that might have been left.

They worked in silence for a few hours that way, a comfortable quiet born of their longtime friendship. Every so often, Sorey would look up from his work to build the fire up again, and he would meet Mikleo’s eye, and they’d exchange a small smile before going back to work. Sorey didn’t find much more, another handwritten book and what looked to be a collection of loose papers, which unfortunately didn’t appear to be nearly as well-maintained as either of the books had. When Sorey had found all that he thought was likely to discover, he transported the artifacts nearer to the light source and took a seat next to Mikleo, stretching to relieve the pressure that had built in his muscles over the course of the day.

He nudged Mikleo lightly, not wanting to startle him out of his concentration. “Find anything interesting?” From the distracted look in Mikleo’s eyes as he blinked and turned his attention away from the words in front of him, Sorey guessed so.

“I think I figured out why this book was so carefully protected,” he said slowly, his hair shining warmly in the firelight. “All this poetry is written by the same person, for the same person.”

“Really?” Sorey sat back on his hands, gaze drifting to the stars above them.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mikleo nod. “Each selection is signed by a name. Celes. And there are multiple references to a fire seraph, Reysol. From what I can tell, Celes was a human woman who fell in love with Reysol. He loved her, as well. He was her muse; all this poetry is about him.”

Sorey closed his eyes, feeling something warm and content glowing in his chest. “So that’s why it was so important to them to preserve it.” It made perfect sense to him; a human falling in love with a seraph. His heart fluttered, and he chanced a request. “Will you read more of it?”

Mikleo paused before answering by flipping the pages back to the beginning and reading out loud. Sorey basked once more in Mikleo’s voice, much steadier now that he was reading off his notes. The words didn’t flow as smoothly as they would have in the ancient tongue, but there was a beauty about them, regardless; Sorey found himself drifting off to words of admiration and love, thousands of years old and yet still resonant. While each poem communicated an emotion in its own right, reading them in chronological order told a story. Unrequited love, pining, and admiration gave way to elated promises of devotion, and Sorey could imagine Celes’ joy at Reysol reciprocating her clearly strong feelings. Over time, the poems grew calmer but no less loving: recounting the pleasure of the simple intimacies they shared, the warmth of small smiles and touches and understanding words.

The poems weren’t all happy, of course. Some dealt with Celes’ insecurities, being a human partner to a seraph. During her time, conflict between humans and seraphim was boiling, and many frowned on their relationship. A few poems revealed her fears, that Reysol would join so many of his fellow seraphim and leave the human world behind for good. Still, for every line of fear and doubt, there was another recalling Reysol’s reassurances and commitment.

One poem, Mikleo noted softly, had been recited at Celes’ wedding to Reysol. Sorey perked up at this, his eyes popping open and turning to Mikleo in excitement. He was puzzled to find Mikleo pursing his lips, looking determinedly into the fire. Sorey almost spoke up. How could Mikleo miss the significance of such a fact? A wedding between a human and a seraphim; the ultimate proof that seraphim had coexisted, had formed relationships, had lived together in the kind of love that Sorey and Mikleo had grown up knowing.

Sorey’s thoughts halted, and he took in Mikleo’s uneasy expression, and he realized what had been holding him back. A tension crept between them, an uneasy stillness in the air as Sorey closed his mouth.

Sorey had felt a pull to Celes’ words, and although Mikleo was quieter about it, Sorey knew he had too; his single-minded devotion to translating the poems was proof of that. As if Mikleo knew that Sorey had been about to try to break the silence, Mikleo forged ahead, but the thickness in the air only grew more dense, until Sorey had almost forgotten Celes and Reysol entirely. All he could think of was Mikleo, sitting next to him, alone under the stars, reading romantic poetry written so long ago, documenting the bond between a human and seraph. He was hyper-aware of how closely they were sitting, of the way Mikleo’s arm brushed against his when he turned the pages.

It wasn’t something they’d ever talked about, this thing between them. Sorey couldn’t say how long it had been there, flitting on the edges of every conversation, every casual touch. He’d wondered about bringing it up, a few times. He’d entertained fantasies of whispers and fond words and closeness, but in the end, he restrained himself. Somehow, bringing this thing into the spotlight would spoil it, so he let it hang, living in the space between their bodies and the moments when their eyes caught.

Mikleo’s voice trailed off again, and the world was silent. Sorey felt his heart pound. “She… she must have really loved him,” he said, trying and failing to sound relaxed. Mikleo, who knew Sorey better than he knew himself at times, closed the book.

“And he must have loved her.” Sorey sat up straighter; Mikleo’s words were detached, almost sad. Then: “He made sure these would last long after her death.”

The effect was like a bucket of cold water had been dumped on Sorey. “Mikleo…” he began, but there was nothing to say, no comforting words that could change the facts. These were the limitations of their companionship.

Mikleo exhaled deeply, turning to Sorey, his expression weary. “We should get to sleep. It’s going to be a long day tomorrow.”

* * *

It was a long day, and a long week after that. They trekked back to Elysia, where they were greeted warmly by their friends and family. After that, they spent much of their time fully translating the bits of language they’d collected from around Landevale. To their disappointment, translating the seraphic languages proved more difficult than they’d anticipated, and it was slow going.

During the weeks, Sorey found himself reading and rereading the record left behind by Celes. Each time he read it, he picked up on more of the tragedy. How worried Celes had been about aging, of leaving her love behind. The ways their differences drove them apart, and how they fought to remain together. His heart ached for her, and he thought of Mikleo, and the feeling only worsened. But despite himself, Sorey couldn't forget the undeniable happiness and joy that existed in these records.

The moment of unstated understanding between the two of them that had occurred as Mikleo read to Sorey went untouched for around a week, when Mikleo had finally made some headway in translating the seraphic words. It was late at night, both boys barefoot, laying across Sorey’s floor, absorbed in their respective projects.

“I translated the cover of the poetry book,” Mikleo said, sitting up and pulling the item in question into his lap. Sorey nodded, prepared to listen. “To my beautiful husband, my one and only, on our fiftieth anniversary.”

Sorey felt the corners of his lips pull up into a smile. “They really did stay together that long. I’m glad.” He hesitated. “It’s amazing… how much they loved each other, even though it was so difficult.”

Mikleo turned his head away, staring down at his lap. “Yeah.”

Sorey took a deep breath. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot. In a way… I think it gives me hope.” Mikleo didn’t react, and he continued, trying not to rush through his carefully constructed speech. “I know seraphim and humans are different. For them to live together wasn’t easy. Like it mentions… misunderstandings, fear, hatred… and the pain of not being the same.” He saw Mikleo tense at this, his fingers gripping the book in his lap more firmly. “But this is proof that it was possible. When humans and seraphim worked together… it hurt sometimes. But there were also advancements, and peace, and…” he gulped, and his voice softened, still watching Mikleo without as much as a blink. “And love,” he said hoarsely. “That’s why… even if it’s hard, that’s my dream. To cross that bridge.”

Mikleo finally looked at him, a weak smile on his face. “You’re a human living in a seraph’s world,” he said, forcing amusement into his tone. “I’d say you’re already halfway there.”

Sorey nodded, never looking away from those lilac eyes as he spoke. “Yeah. I’m human, but I wouldn’t be who I am without the seraphim.” He closed his eyes, let the words fall out. “I wouldn’t be who I am without you.” His eyes popped open, suddenly needing to see Mikleo’s reaction. His lips were parted just slightly, his eyes wide. “Mikleo…” Sorey felt the comforting syllables of his name form in his mouth, and he was going to do it, was going to name what had been growing between them, and he didn’t know what the result would be but he didn’t think he could stop himself.

But then Mikleo shook his head, collecting his thoughts. Then he crossed his arms, apparently coming to a decision. “Luzrov Rulay,” he said quickly, and the words on the tip of Sorey’s tongue were instantly forgotten.

For a moment, Sorey didn’t understand what he’d said. “W-what?”

“My name is Luzrov Rulay.”

Sorey froze, unable to do anything but blink in his astonishment. It was so little, and yet it was everything. Sorey’s head swam with the knowledge of it. He remembered learning about true names with Mikleo, years ago. How every seraph had one, how they could be used to make pacts and strengthen a seraphim, but they were also a seraph’s greatest weakness. Knowing a seraph’s true name gave a person enormous power over them, so seraphim kept them secret, guarding their names with their very lives. Curious, Sorey had once asked Gramps and Mikleo their names. Gramps had scolded him sternly, telling him that true names were only to be given to form a pact with a person you trusted with your very being in their hands.

Luzrov Rulay. Two words that somehow said everything that had been on the tip of Sorey’s tongue. _I trust you with my life. I want to be here, by your side, as long as I can._ It was a pact. It was a promise. It was a confession. It was an affirmation. “Mikleo,” Sorey breathed.

Mikleo fidgeted, unsure but beautiful as ever, and Sorey never wanted to stop looking at him. “I just… I thought you should know,” he muttered, and Sorey was bursting again.

“I wish I had a name to give you,” he said. He would have given Mikleo everything in an instant. He wanted to, more than anything, but Mikleo shook his head, looking up at him with a serious stare that disarmed him.

“It’s fine. That’s not why I told you. You understand, right?”

Sorey furrowed his eyebrows. Mikleo had purposefully given him a confession that Sorey couldn’t reciprocate. Could it be that he feared Sorey wouldn’t want to, even after Sorey had all but told him so? But no, he decided, seeing the resolve in Mikleo’s posture. He knew full well. Sorey thought again of the book in his hands, of the lives of Celes and Reysol. Full of happiness, but containing profound sadness in equal measure. He nodded.

“I understand. But…”

“Sorey,” Mikleo cut him off again, looking pained, and Sorey wanted to reach out, to comfort him, but he could see that would only make matters worse.

“You understand how I feel too, don’t you?” He knew he couldn’t say it. Mikleo wasn’t ready to address the full implications right now, and Sorey couldn’t blame him.

Mikleo pulled his knees to his chest, nodding the tiniest amount, a far-away smile on his face. “I know,” he said, turning his head to face Sorey, and he let go of a breath he hadn’t even known he’d been holding.

Sorey matched his smile. “Good.”

“I’m... sorry,” Mikleo added, his smile faltering.

Sorey smiled, shaking his head. “Don’t be. I’m here, whatever you decide.” He meant it. As long as Mikleo knew, he didn’t mind their feelings staying unspoken. He knew where they stood. Together, as always. They would figure it out. They had all the time in the world to do so. For now, they were here, in Sorey’s house, and that was enough.

“Luzrov Rulay…” he said quietly, savoring the feel of the name. He said it like it was the most precious thing he had, and in a way, he thought, watching as Mikleo’s soft smile grew again and he turned back to his notes, it was.

* * *

* * *

Notes:

The idea of this fic is to explore Sorey and Mikleo's relationship in the canon. During the game, Sorey and Mikleo are so close, and they don't seem to be pining for each other, but at the same time, I didn't get the impression that they were officially together, either, or had ever said out loud what their feelings were to each other. I have more ideas for this universe that go through important moments in the whole game, so I may expand on this fic in the future, but this was really the one I wanted to get down the most. Thank you for reading!

If anyone was curious, Landevale (more commonly known as Lanval) is a name from the King Arthur stories. He was a knight of King Arthur who was beloved by a fairy, and at the end of their story, he and the fairy ride off together to Avalon.  
Also, the poem that Mikleo reads is the English translation of a French poem, Le charme, by Armand Silvestre.


	2. Sub Lord

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Sorey had no way of knowing that their lives was about to undergo a far more drastic and irreversible change, beginning with Alisha Diphda. Her appearance in Elysia lead them both into the world below, and before they knew what was happening, Sorey was the Shepherd, and Mikleo, after the emotional whirlwind of fighting and the joy of reunion, was his Sub Lord."

Sorey couldn’t recall a time when he’d been happier than the months since their excursion to Landevale. On the outside, things looked the same as always. They didn't say anything to indicate that they were anything more than what they had always been; it was just Sorey and Mikleo competing in their studies, uncovering artifacts, making headway translating the inscriptions they’d found in Landevale. The change was in the little things. Instead of startling when Sorey put a hand on his shoulder, Mikleo accepted the touch easily. He no longer felt the need to pull his eyes away from Mikleo when he realized he’d been staring, captivated by soft hair or beautiful amethyst eyes; sometimes Mikleo would catch him, raise his eyebrows in amusement as if to ask ‘really, Sorey?’ and Sorey would grin sheepishly in response.

Sorey had no way of knowing that their lives was about to undergo a far more drastic and irreversible change, beginning with Alisha Diphda. Her appearance in Elysia lead them both into the world below, and before they knew what was happening, Sorey was the Shepherd, and Mikleo, after the emotional whirlwind of fighting and the joy of reunion, was his Sub Lord.

Now that their argument was resolved, Sorey was exuberant. Armatizing with Mikleo was an incredible feeling, and Sorey’s powers had progressed to the point that Alisha could see Lailah and Mikleo, and despite the twinge of pain in his right eye, Sorey suddenly felt like he could take on anything. Including Mikleo, in an impromptu tickle fight.

Sorey was merciless, avoiding Mikleo’s attempts to deflect his fingers and tickling his most sensitive spots. Mikleo choked out laugher, fighting back, occasionally getting past Sorey’s defenses and earning a gasp of breathless laughter from him. Suddenly, Mikleo grimaced, tensing up, and Sorey immediately ceased his assault. “Mikleo, are you hurt?”

Mikleo shook his head. “I’m fine. But Sorey, your hand is grazed,” he added, reaching out for the hand in question and pulling it towards him.

“It’s nothing,” Sorey said, but he let Mikleo carefully remove the glove that had taken the bulk of the cut and set it aside to patch up later.

Sorey couldn’t help thinking to himself that Mikleo’s presence, the familiar cool glow of his healing artes,  and the touch of his fingers over the skin of Sorey’s hand healed something deeper than the small cut. When Mikleo had finished, he met Sorey’s gaze with a smirk. “Well, there you go. You must have missed me,” he teased.

Sorey crossed his arms petulantly, which had the undesired side effect of ripping his hand from Mikleo’s care. “Speak for yourself.”

Mikleo’s eyes narrowed, crossing his arms as well. “ _I_ was fine.”

Sorey, unable to keep up the act, bumped Mikleo’s side as they began following Alisha and Lailah deeper into the ruins. “Just admit it, Mikleo,” he sang, and Mikleo scowled, face flushed red, and bumped him back.

After depositing the new vessel in the Sanctuary, he and Alisha decided they had all earned a good night’s sleep at the inn, and by the time their servings of grilled sweetfish arrived and Sorey had convinced the innkeeper to accept payment for the meals, all four of them were sitting around the table, talking and laughing and congratulating themselves on a job well done, past worries all but forgotten. Sorey’s spirits finally felt light again.

Towards the end of their meal, their amiable conversation was interrupted by Lailah clapping her hands together, looking at them all fondly. “Oh, it’s so nice to have all of us back together!” She beamed, eyes falling on Mikleo, and she spoke her next words to him directly: “Sorey was just worried sick!”

“Lailah…” Sorey grumbled, scratching at his ear. Lailah blinked, looking innocently confused. It wasn’t the first time Lailah had teased at his relationship with Mikleo, though that had been bad enough. Sorey hadn’t quite known how to react; Lailah wasn’t _wrong_ with her assumptions and insinuations, but she also wasn’t quite right. He’d done his best to sidestep the questions entirely, but now Mikleo was here and what would he think of all this?

But Mikleo just took another sip of his wine, set down his glass, and looked at Lailah with a slight smile. “I have to thank you, now that I think about it. Without those flowers you left, I would have had a much harder time tracking you all down in the city.”

“Flowers?” Sorey didn’t know what he was talking about, but Lailah beamed.

“I just wanted to help out a _lily_ bit!” Lailah chirped, looking deeply satisfied when Alisha giggled.

Mikleo groaned, and suddenly he was standing. “Well, I’m going to bed,” he said, casting Lailah a glare that Sorey knew was only feigned, his words dripping in disapproval.

Lailah seemed to catch on to Mikleo’s joke, as well. “Oh, Mikleo!” She huffed dramatically, crossing her arms and pouting, causing Mikleo’s stern facade to crack as he chuckled too.

“But seriously, I think I’m calling it a night,” Mikleo added.

Sorey stood. “Me, too,” he said to Lailah and Alisha. “It’s been a long day. I’ll see you guys in the morning.”

Alisha nodded. “Good night, you two,” she said, and they made their way out of the busy dining area and to the room they had reserved for the boys.

“So,” Sorey began, struggling with the key for a minute before finally unlocking their door and stepping inside. “You didn’t come here at first. After you left,” he added, seeing Mikleo’s confusion. “Were you looking for another entrance into the aqueducts?”

“I thought about it,” Mikleo admitted, beginning to change into his nightclothes. “In the end, I found a library and tried to do some more research on the Shepherds in history.”

“Find anything interesting?” Sorey took out the feathered pieces on his ears, setting them carefully on the nightstand beside the bed, and then began changing into his own pyjamas.

Mikleo shrugged a shoulder. “Nothing we didn’t already know. I did find a mention of the Lords of the Land. I thought that might be helpful, so that’s when I tried to find you guys again.”

Surprised, Sorey paused for the briefest moment as he climbed into the bed. He could imagine it clearly: Mikleo, determined to prove himself, scouring the library for anything that could be useful. Catching up to them only to discover they knew it already. Not for the first time that day, guilt flooded him. “Sorry,” he said, and he wished he could think of something more to say. “You were right all along, and I just…” He’d reacted impulsively, emotionally. He hadn’t wanted Mikleo to feel forced for even a moment to take on this burden. Sorey hated the idea of Mikleo coming along merely because of a reckless decision made just to protect Sorey. He’d meant to give him a chance to consider his options, and before he had known it, everything had spiraled out of control.

When Sorey didn’t continue, Mikleo took a seat next to him on the bed. “I know,” he said simply. “But I also shouldn’t have left the way I did.”

Sorey hummed at this. It was true that Mikleo had gotten rather as emotional as he had. It was to be expected: Mikleo wasn’t the kind of person who would ever be satisfied standing and watching as others fought. “We both needed to cool off,” he finally said, thinking of his hands gripping Mikleo’s shoulders fiercely, the hurt and anger shining in Mikleo’s eyes, the way he’d gently, deliberately removed Sorey’s hands and walked off, without looking back. Mikleo acknowledged this with a nod, laying back on his side of the bed, looking up at the ceiling.

“And anyway, it made me realize…”

“Hm?” Mikleo turned his head, curious for Sorey to continue.

Sorey wasn’t quite sure what he’d been about to say. Something about how the search through the Ladylake aqueducts hadn’t been nearly as exciting as it would have been with Mikleo, how the thrill of discovery at the end had been so lackluster in the absence of a companion who was equally flushed with victory. How he’d been wrong to leave Elysia without Mikleo-- to think that he could continue on without Mikleo-- because this journey would be pointless without him by his side.

It had taken him an embarrassingly long time to understand, so caught up in the reflexive urge to keep Mikleo out of things until he had a chance to consider the gravity of his decisions. Purifying hellions, quelling malevolence, those things weren’t Mikleo’s dream.

In truth, they weren’t Sorey’s either, at least, not exactly. Sorey believed with all his heart that by becoming the Shepherd, he could find the answers he needed, so that humans and seraphim could live together in peace. Mikleo had doubts, something Sorey knew full well. But Mikleo's absence had made him realize how pointless his journey would be without a companion at his side, and his insistence had opened Sorey's eyes to something else: whatever doubts Mikleo had about the dream they shared, it only made it more important for both of them to see it through. They would do so, together, to the best of their ability.

So much he could say, so instead he shook his head. “Nothing,” he said, and then he hesitated, and then he reached across the space between them to rest a hand over Mikleo’s. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Mikleo turned his head, drawing his fingers up the underside of Sorey’s palm and interlinking their fingers. “Glad to be here,” he said, and his voice sounded exactly as Sorey’s had: soft, well aware that those simple words were saying something bigger than the sum of their parts.

Sorey felt the warmth of Mikleo’s small, slender fingers between his own, and he wondered exactly how much bigger. By their unspoken agreement, he hadn’t said anything about the finer points of their relationship since Mikleo had confessed his true name to him, and neither had Mikleo. And then he had proudly declared, a victorious glint in his eyes, that he had trusted Sorey with his true name, the name that most seraphim shared only with their committed partners, and Sorey couldn’t help himself from selfishly wondering if that _meant_ anything.

Sorey lay there for a moment, wondering if Mikleo could hear his heart pounding. Then, carefully, he slid his hand away from Mikleo’s, reaching up to his face and sliding back Mikleo’s bangs, his hair cool and silky against his uncertain fingers. Sorey’s hand lingered there, his fingertips hovering over the skin of Mikleo’s cheek, asking a question, struggling in the dimness of the room to find an answer in Mikleo’s eyes.

Mikleo wasn’t moving away. “Sorey…” His voice was breathy, and there was something like longing in his tone, but the touch had made him tense, and he looked trapped under Sorey’s gaze. Mikleo remained indecisive, and Sorey dropped his hand back down to take Mikleo’s again. Mikleo exhaled and squeezed Sorey’s hand in silent acknowledgement. Sorey squeezed back, letting his thumb stroke up and down over Mikleo’s knuckles.

If Sorey was being honest with himself, he felt the slightest twitch of disappointment. But, in that brief moment, Sorey had seen Mikleo’s wanting. It was more complicated than a rejection, and that was okay with him, just like it had been when Mikleo had first shared his name and the promises that went with it.  _I trust you with my life. I want to be here, by your side, as long as I can._ Those facts hadn't changed for either of them.

“Luzrov Rulay…” he repeated to himself, and suddenly Mikleo wasn’t sitting next to him anymore.

“Ack! Sorey!”

Sorey started at Mikleo’s exclamation, because he couldn’t see him anywhere. He blinked, and the realization hit him. “Sorry! Sorry!” He released the armatus, and Mikleo was tossed unceremoniously into the bed next to him. Sorey sat up, laughing awkwardly, glad it was too dark for his flush to be visible. “I, uh, forgot about that.”

“How could you possibly forget?!” Mikleo huffed, and Sorey laughed. His indignation was only somewhat feigned but certainly cute: even without seeing it, he could picture Mikleo’s scowl. Mikleo settled back into a reclining position. “You’re hopeless,” he sighed, but he let Sorey take his hand again.

“I guess so,” Sorey yawned, enjoying once more the warmth of Mikleo’s hand in his own.

* * *

 

With Mikleo returned to the group, they were able to venture further into Hyland, purifying hellions, restoring Ladylake’s Lord of the Land, recruiting the help yet another seraph, and curing the plague in Marlind. Sorey’s right eye continued to pain him, something Mikleo could hardly fail to notice, and Sorey felt his heart sink when he saw the disapproval in Mikleo’s face as Sorey tried to play innocent. He was sure that by the next morning, he would have told Alisha and Lailah about Sorey’s reckless behavior. To his surprise, no one made any mention of the incident, and though he noticed instantly when Mikleo sprang into battle from his right side, he kept his silence, too. Without further comment, Mikleo had adjusted himself to cover for Sorey, just like how Mikleo had sided with him against Gramps, both times in spite of his own disapproval. Sorey felt a surge of affection for Mikleo, manifesting itself in their brand of post-battle teasing and the understanding looks that passed between them on occasion.

Still, such a situation couldn’t last, and soon enough their secret was found out. Both Alisha and Mikleo were unusually silent as they made their way back to Marlind, but before they were able to say any more about it, the situation had changed on them again. Alisha left the group, and before Sorey even had the chance to be disappointed, the news of war began ringing through Marlind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, hello again! Nice to be back working on this story. Some of you may know that I had different chapters up for a few short days, then took them down. This is my first multichaptered fic, and it turns out I needed more time than I thought to figure out how exactly I wanted to go about the rest of it. So here we are, what, two weeks later? And now the whole thing is written, and I'm excited to share it! Thank you for your patience, and thank you, anonymous reviewer of those original three chapters, for confirming something I already knew and giving me the motivation to readjust.


	3. Healing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Sorey tried to hold back the tension in his chest: a pressure that made it seem hard to breathe, like the malevolence in the basin only a few short hours ago. Sorey shoved the suffocating memory out of mind for what felt like the millionth time, focusing again on the weathered inscriptions Mikleo was pointing out."

Sorey tried to hold back the tension in his chest: a pressure that made it seem hard to breathe, like the malevolence in Glaivend Basin only a few short hours ago. Sorey shoved the suffocating memory out of mind for what felt like the millionth time, focusing again on the weathered inscriptions Mikleo was pointing out.

Edna and Lailah were done with ruins and history for the day, and they had gone to accompany Rose as she supervised her guild. Dezel, of course, was never to be found very far from Rose. Which left Sorey and Mikleo alone, wandering the ruins. The Tintagel ruins were amazing, and the Sparrowfeathers, or Scattered Bones, he supposed, made the place feel warm and alive as they busied themselves with their work.

They enjoyed the familiar routine of exploring the ruins together, and when they were done for the day, without any spoken suggestion from either of them, they found themselves back in the room where the Scattered Bones had set up their bedrolls. Sorey and Rose had been placed on a set of twin beds when they’d arrived (according to Rose, those were part of the Sparrowfeathers’ merchandise) but tonight, they would be sleeping on the floor like everyone else. Sorey and Mikleo made quick work of setting up for the night in a corner, and then they sat, watching the guild members bustle around, hardworking and methodical.

“Camping out in ruins like this reminds me of old times, don’t you think?” Sorey smiled with nostalgia.

“Yeah.” Mikleo mirrored his expression. “I wish we could stay longer. I’m sure there’s tons left to discover here.”

“I know.” Sorey had seen so many amazing places on this journey, and none of them for as long as he would have liked. Still, it was more than worth it, and he promised himself that they would come back someday, him and Mikleo, when things weren’t so fraught. “Hey, Mikleo… thanks.”

Mikleo tilted his head. “For what?”

Sorey hesitated. “I had fun, exploring today.”

Mikleo’s violet eyes softened, and suddenly Sorey knew he wasn't the only one thinking of the war, of being forced to attack soldiers, of the choking blackness of malevolence, alone in a sea of hellions. Mikleo’s suggestion to explore the ruins had been an intentional distraction from that, a reminder that things were still okay.

“You don’t need to thank me for that,” Mikleo said.

“I know,” Sorey said, and his voice broke, and he hadn’t let himself think too hard about the terror of calling out for Mikleo and the others and not hearing them answer, but now Mikleo was _here_ and he was safe and Sorey felt tears stinging his eyes as he grabbed Mikleo, pulling him tight against his chest. Mikleo circled arms around him, grip just as unrelenting as Sorey’s, his head pressing into Sorey’s neck. Sorey felt Mikleo’s whole body shudder, and knew that he’d been restraining himself, too.

Little by little, Sorey allowed himself to see the battlefield again. He saw the fear in the eyes of soldiers from both sides as he tossed them aside. He felt again the emptiness that had filled him as he crossed the basin. He thought of Heldalf’s domain: thick with a malevolence that was enough to send him to his knees as wave after wave of hellion came at him. He let himself feel the panic of crying out Mikleo’s name and hearing no reply, of calling out for any of them while holding off one tainted creature after another and wondering if they were gone, if this was the end.

Sorey let himself feel it. It was okay, now, to feel it. Little by little, the pain and fear of the last few hours rose up and then drifted away. They were all safe, and Edna and Lailah wouldn’t have to worry about seeing him fall apart this way. It was just Mikleo, holding him securely and rubbing a soothing hand across his back, grounding him. Sorey could feel teardrops on his neck and realized he wasn’t the only one who had needed this reassurance. Their breathing slowed, and Sorey felt that tightness in his chest finally loosen.

Sorey didn’t know how long they stayed like that, hugging the other like they never wanted to let go. Finally, Mikleo gave an embarrassed little cough to clear his throat. “They can't see me, you know. People are going to look at you strangely,” he said, but he didn’t slacken his hold on Sorey any. For a moment, Sorey didn’t either. They were tucked away in a corner, and everyone was so busy they were unlikely to be paying any attention to them anyway. When he finally let go, he saw the slightest disappointment in Mikleo’s eyes, so Sorey leaned back, reclining on the bedroll they’d set up together, leaving a space for Mikleo and looking up. Mikleo accepted the uncertain invitation without further comment.

Mikleo surprised him by snuggling closer, using Sorey’s chest as a pillow and slipping an arm around his waist, and Sorey felt his heart stop momentarily before shifting to allow the closeness, his arms circling Mikleo again. If Mikleo was still trying to distract him from the events of the day, it was working; all he could think about was the warmth of Mikleo’s chest pressed to his, the way his hand splayed over Sorey’s side while his thumb stroked over clothing softly, the tickle of his sweet-smelling hair against his cheek. They slept in the same bed all the time nowadays, but this, this was easily the closest and most indisputably intimate touch they’d ever shared, the kind of thing Sorey had been secretly hoping for all this time. Now that it was happening, he found he could hardly breathe, and although he did his best to calm himself so that Mikleo would be comfortable and hopefully _never stop doing this ever_ , he was sure the sound of his heartbeat was deafening anyway.

“Alright, everybody! Lights out in ten minutes!”

They were both startled by the sound of Rose’s commanding voice, continuing to order the Scattered Bones around and ensure everything was ready for her departure with Sorey and the others, including giving a very strict lecture about how Eguille was in charge while she was gone. Her orders delivered, she ended with a smiling declaration that she would miss everyone.

“She’s really something,” Sorey said, listening to the assassin’s heartfelt goodbyes.

Mikleo chuckled, and Sorey could feel the vibrations of it in his chest. “‘Rose is Rose,’ as you said.”

Sorey paused, then dared to ask: “Did you really not say anything to her?”

“What, you mean, did I threaten her at staffpoint to become a Squire?”

Mikleo's voice was tinged with amusement, and how was it possible that Mikleo's teasing felt so wonderfully different when Sorey was holding him in his arms like this? Sorey laughed. “I doubt it. She hits hard.” He knew that from first-hand experience, unfortunately.

“She knocked me down, too, now that you mention it,” Mikleo said, amusement creeping into his tone, and Sorey knew a classic Mikleo deflection when he heard it, so he was surprised to hear Mikleo continue. “I really didn’t say that much. She started to hear my voice on her own.”

“Yeah?” Sorey prompted.

Mikleo took the hand on Sorey’s waist and moved to skim his fingertips over Sorey’s collar bone, and Sorey couldn't breathe for a moment for the way his heart seemed to leap into his throat. Mikleo’s touch, gentle as it was, burned into his skin even through the cloth of his shirt, and it took tremendous effort to divert his attention back to Mikleo’s quiet words. “I told her that humans and seraphim are different. And that even you…” he trailed off. “You are human. A lone human among seraphim. And that can be disastrous.” In his mind’s eye, Sorey saw the scene in Gaivend Basin again. If Rose hadn’t been there, Mikleo and the others would have been able to do nothing. Mikleo had a point, and yet still Sorey frowned, wanting to say something but unsure what. “Ultimately, I left it up to her,” Mikleo concluded.

“Thanks,” Sorey said again. _For thinking of me. For having my back today. For letting us be here like this._ The single word was inadequate, but somehow it helped Sorey think of the words he had been missing earlier. “You know… I might have grown up as a lone human, but I have never been alone.”

Mikleo’s fingers paused their skimming. “Never?” The word was quiet, and it made Sorey’s heart ache to hear that doubt in Mikleo’s voice. Somehow it always seemed to come back to this: The reason for their dream, and that last niggling fear that it wasn’t enough.

But Sorey knew better. He and Rose had survived that fall. They’d floated, unconscious, down the river, and they’d woken up on land, completely dry. He pulled Mikleo closer, pressing his cheek against soft hair, and his answer was confident.

“Never.”

* * *

 

The next day, Sorey felt fresh and ready to move out, which was a good thing, because Rose’s enthusiasm was second to none. He wasn't the only one that looked better; Aside from Dezel, it seemed everyone was more relaxed after a good night’s sleep. Lailah hummed a little song to herself as they made their final preparations to leave, and Edna amused herself with her latest nickname for Mikleo. Mikleo responded with his usual indignation, although privately Sorey thought that “Smileo” was really a pretty accurate descriptor of Mikleo this morning.

It didn’t take Rose long to acclimatize to the group dynamics. Before long, she had them snuck into Lastonbell, a city she was plenty familiar with, pointing out the most important sites and taking them to her favorite restaurant in the city. As usual, it was a bit difficult to explain why two humans needed such a large table and so much food, but Rose showed them how a little money went a long way, and soon everyone was digging in.

Sorey took one bite and made a noise of satisfaction, quickly taking a second and third, doing his best to savor it but unable to resist the temptation. “This is so good!” He said once he’d chewed and swallowed, and Rose gave him a smug grin. “You know, I think that’s one of my favorite things about travelling the world like this-- we get to try all this great cooking from everywhere!”

“Mine’s amazing, too,” Mikleo agreed.

“Can I try?”

Mikleo held up a fork full in offering, but pulled it away when Sorey craned his head to take it. Sorey pouted at the teasing gleam in Mikleo’s eye. “You, too.”

Sorey perked up and quickly held up a bite of his own dish. Not one to be outdone, Sorey waited until Mikleo’s lips had nearly touched his fork before yanking it away, too. Mikleo glared, and Sorey allowed him to grab Sorey’s wrist and take his bite for real, this time. He chewed slowly, humming in approval. Only when he’d swallowed all the way did Mikleo finally let Sorey take his own sample.

It was _delicious_. Sorey’s eyes widened. “Oh, I like that, too.” He went back to his meal, excited. “And we haven’t even tried dessert, yet!”

Mikleo snickered, looking at all the food that remained on his plate. “You sure you don’t have enough already?”

“Are those two…?” Sorey blinked, hearing Rose’s voice from the other side of the table, low but not quiet enough for him to miss.

“Yes, they’re always like that,” Edna replied, sounding bored.

Rose scratched at her cheek idly. “Yeah, but are they--”

She was interrupted by Dezel. “You’re even less observant than I thought if you even need to ask.”

Rose bristled at his impatient tone. “Well _thanks,_ Dezel, I was just wondering--”

“Uh, we’re _right here_ , you know,” Mikleo cut her off, looking annoyed but not particularly angry or embarrassed, Sorey noticed.

Rose’s fists clenched, and Sorey supposed she was fed up with people speaking over her. “Am I ever going to get a straight answer here?” Her voice was raised, and a few of the other patrons turned their heads to see what the commotion was about.

Mikleo surprised them all by speaking up first. “Certainly not,” he declared. His fingers pressed lightly against his lips, but their corners twitched up and his eyes sparkled in a way that suggested he was holding back a satisfied smirk.

The others tittered, shooting glances at Sorey, who was sure he’d become red as a tomato. “Oh, Mikleo! Why didn’t I think of that one?” Lailah bemoaned, but she too hid a smile behind slender fingers. 

Rose sighed, turning to Sorey, who could think of no other answer but to shrug, not quite sure how to handle this kind of joke coming from Mikleo. Shaking her head, Rose slumped down in her chair with crossed arms. “Fine. I see how it is.”

Sorey chuckled weakly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And again, those two have an important emotional conversation when they're all cuddled up in bed. Well, it fits. On the journey, those are probably some of the few moments they really get alone.  
> You know, it's actually a bit intimidating to continue this fic, since the first chapter was actually really well-liked on its own. I hope people are still enjoying!


	4. A Promise, Renewed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Mikleo cast him an amused smirk, the kind that made his eyes light up gorgeously, and suddenly Sorey had a violent urge to apologize for ever getting Mikleo involved in this, despite the fact that he knew that Mikleo’s answer would be the same as his own or that of the other seraphim: _I chose this, so there’s no need to be sorry." ___

As their journey continued into the Rolance Empire, Sorey could hardly fail to notice the effort each of his companions put into growing stronger. Mikleo, as ever, stood out to him: he often stayed up late training, or took Lailah and Dezel (and even Edna, on occasion) aside to ask them what he could do to improve. Sorey worried Mikleo was pushing himself too hard at times, but he thought back to his earnest words-- _I didn’t come along to be a liability for you_ \-- and resolved to stay quiet, for the most part, and encourage Mikleo. If he interrupted every once in awhile with a request for Mikleo to try another one of his attempts at cooking or check out a passage from a book he’d bought in the last town, well, Mikleo didn’t seem to mind much. He’d set his staff aside and join him for a snack, or take a seat next to him and read over Sorey’s shoulder, their arms pressing warm together.

Sometimes, when that happened, they’d get into a heated debate that lasted all hours of the night, until Rose yelled at them from the next room. Sometimes, they would talk for a while, words coming slower and slower as the night went on, and when it became completely silent Mikleo would lean into him, and Sorey would wrap an arm around his shoulders, and they’d sit like that for a while, indulging in the new closeness they’d found in recent days, falling asleep in each other's’ arms.

Then there were the times they would begin arguing only to end with a tickle fight, one of them pinned down and promptly released before the situation had a chance to get awkward. _That_ tension was something neither of them were prepared to delve into. No, their desire for physical affection was presently satisfied with cuddling and, at their most daring, quick kisses pressed to temples and foreheads. In that way, their relationship maintained at least the pretense of ambiguity.

With a new Squire at their side, and another seraph to complete their elemental roster, they solved the mystery of the Pope’s disappearance and the corrupt Cardinal that had sought to take his place. They completed the Shepherd’s trials, earning new strength, both physical and spiritual. As their strength increased, so too did the bonds between all the party, as what was once a group of relative strangers began feeling more and more like family.

Tragedy struck, and a member of that family was lost. Through the pain, Mikleo was full of a quiet determination, and Sorey couldn’t help but share it, as it gave some meaning to his grief: they had come too far to quit now. For Dezel’s sake, and for everything else that had been lost to this malevolence, they promised to find their answer and follow it to the end. They pressed forward.

In time, they learned of the sacrifice they’d have to make to achieve that answer, and Sorey felt Mikleo at his back once more, proving their dedication in a fight to the death with the Storyteller of Time. There were few conversations about the implications of their decision among the party. Instead, each member of the group was processing individually, in their own different ways. Discussion waited until the others insisted they stop in Lastonbell, and Sorey finally had a chance to speak to Mikleo privately.

Even then, there were so many things to say, and not enough time. Mikleo didn’t protest much when Sorey revealed his part of the plan. He raised his concerns briefly and then nodded. Sorey was relieved for this quiet understanding; he had made his choice, the same as Mikleo and the other seraphim, and there was no going back for any of them.

* * *

Sorey knew something was up as soon as Mikleo suggested they return to Elysia. The way he’d asked was not quite casual, and even though Sorey agreed that it would be nice to go back to the start, usually Mikleo would have reminded him that this was no time for detours. No, Mikleo had something on his mind.

It was when they had reached Elysia and Zaveid started teasing them about the so-called winds of love-- as he had taken to doing after what Sorey had privately dubbed “The Sauna Incident”-- that Sorey began to get an inkling of what that might be. After Mikleo promptly told Zaveid off for prying into their affairs, the group slowly thinned, until it was just the two of them, standing together on the cliff where everything had started not so long ago.

Well, that was fine with Sorey. Something had been preying on his mind too, now that they each knew the sacrifices they’d have to make to fulfill their mission. He tore his gaze from the beautiful view the cliffs provided and turned to Mikleo. “I wanted to ask--”

“I wanted to tell you--” Mikleo began at the same time, and they both stopped short, looking at each other with amusement. “You go first,” Mikleo offered.

Having been given permission, Sorey didn’t know where to start. “I’m just… I don’t regret this whole journey, not at all. But still… part of me wonders…” He couldn’t finish the sentence: _What would have happened if I hadn’t decided to leave that day?_ Sorey knew he shouldn't be dwelling on maybes, but still, he was having trouble keeping them out of his mind. “I don’t know,” he finally said as the silence grew unbearable. He laughed, scratching at the back of his hand. “Guess I’m not much for conversation today, huh?” Mikleo cast him a little smirk, the kind that made his eyes light up beautifully and suddenly Sorey had a violent urge to apologize for ever getting Mikleo involved in this, despite the fact that he knew that Mikleo’s answer would be the same as that of the other seraphim: _I chose this, so there’s no need to be sorry._

“When I left Elysia, I had no idea…”

“I did,” Mikleo interrupted, and Sorey hadn’t been expecting that. He turned, surprised, but Mikleo was totally unruffled, the wind blowing softly through his hair as he stared off into the distance. Then he shook his head. “No, that’s not quite right," he amended, furrowing his brow in concentration. "I used to think that you’d run off to the human world and find your place there. Make human friends, get married and have a family, and that would be that.”

He spoke so casually, as if it wasn’t a pronouncement that shook Sorey’s entire world and yet simultaneously snapped everything into clearer focus. _Gramps has always known… that when you left, you’d live the rest of your days with humans._ Mikleo had said those words to him in this very spot. Sorey felt a pit forming in his stomach. 

“You idiot.” He spoke softly, his words lacking any bite.

He was going to say more, but Mikleo continued. “Then I started thinking… when you left, I’d just have to follow you.” Sorey heard the unspoken conclusion of that sentence: _Until I couldn’t follow you any farther._ “And that’s what I did,” Mikleo finished, smiling gently, oblivious to the way Sorey’s head was spinning. 

He had known that Mikleo was holding back. He had  _known_ . But he’d never put it all together. Mikleo gave Sorey his true name and fought to stay with him, to fulfill their dream, all the while bracing himself for an eventuality where Sorey would leave for good. It cast a new light on everything: the way he’d been wary of the first human he’d met. Or how he’d anticipated Sorey’s leaving Elysia without him, or why he’d reacted so strongly to Sorey’s refusal to make him a Sub Lord. Even the way he’d been pushing himself to his limits with semi-secret training sessions. 

“So… don’t worry about it.” Sorey swallowed, knowing exactly the ‘it’ Mikleo was referring to and making one last connection: of course Mikleo had caught on to his guilt about their chosen answer.

What hurt worse was that no matter how much Sorey wanted to reassure him, Mikleo wasn’t even wrong. Sorey had never wanted to leave him behind, but this was the path he’d chosen, that they’d chosen together, and Sorey knew that neither of them would give that up, no matter how much it hurt. They had arrived at their answer, and there was no going back now. They’d promised that to each other, that night after Dezel had died.

“But you know…” Mikleo turned to him, still smiling that beautiful smile. “If this journey’s proven anything, it’s that sometimes… things happen that we can’t predict. We don’t know what’s going to happen. Right?”

He looked into Mikleo’s eyes and saw an unwavering resolve, and he felt himself freeze as he saw at last the point of Mikleo’s confession:  _this_ was what Mikleo had been trying to tell him. _We don’t know that this is the end,_ those violet eyes seemed to say. _There’s still a chance, and I’m not giving up on it just yet._

How many times had they thought they’d lost each other, and how many times had they come back to each other again? They'd protected each other, fought and made up. They'd stayed together when Sorey couldn't see any of the seraphim, and the next time Sorey's resonance had been blocked, Mikleo himself had cut straight through the domain with sheer willpower alone. Now he stood there, quietly resolute, a pillar of confidence and strength, and maybe Sorey hadn’t known the full extent of Mikleo’s fears, but perhaps, without even knowing, this journey had eliminated them. _I’m not giving up anymore,_ that look said, and Sorey felt his sinking heart begin to rise in tentative hope again.

“Right,” he agreed, trying to communicate every one of his overflowing feelings in only the tone of that one word. An impossible task, but not between them; Mikleo nodded, took a steadying breath, and looked out into the distance.

“It was a big world out there after all,” he said, after a moment of contemplative silence. Sorey followed his gaze, looking out into the horizon, just like he had at the beginning of their journey, with Mikleo right by his side. Since then, so much had changed, but this was still the same, and Sorey was grateful for it.

“But don’t you think it’s still too early to say that?”

“What do you mean? We’ve been journeying a long time now.”

“That’s true,” Sorey admitted. But there was still so much left for them to discover and explore together: places they’d grown up reading about, and others that were still waiting to be uncovered. “But I’m sure there’s even more to the world,” he continued. “After this journey ends, we’ll start a new journey, together, so we can see it all!” After Mikleo’s words, he was once again hopeful that they would. It had been their dream all along, after all. 

Mikleo sighed, but his smile betrayed him. “I don’t even know how to respond to that.”

It was then that Sorey remembered that Mikleo had brought them here in the first place, before they’d gotten sidetracked. “Didn’t you want to say something, too?” He thought he knew. He hoped he knew. They’d become so much more open about their affections in recent days, and now this could very well be their last chance to let the words finally be spoken. What else would explain the way Mikleo had convinced them to come up here and gotten them alone? The direction of Mikleo’s conversation, here in the place where everything had began, could surely only leave a single possibility.

Mikleo pursed his lips, considering. “Did I? I forget.”

Sorey tried to ignore the way his heart sank. He couldn’t fault Mikleo for changing his mind, really. After all this time, saying the words out loud now would surely only be painful. “Well, that’s convenient.”

“You’re not much for conversation, anyway,” Mikleo shot back, echoing his words from before.

Sorey smiled half-heartedly. “Harsh.”

“I’ll tell you if I remember,” Mikleo said suddenly, like he wasn’t sure if he’d meant to.

Sorey felt himself perk up in a surprise that quickly turned into understanding. Then, hardly allowing himself to believe it, he swallowed, then nodded. “Next time?” he dared to ask.

“Next time,” Mikleo agreed.

Sorey's heart felt too big for his chest: next time was hardly a certainty, but if there was any motivator more potent than their lives and the fate of the continent, it was the one standing right here in front of him: the one who stood by his side without fail. He was beautiful and he was confident, and it struck Sorey how much they both had grown in the short time since they’d left Elysia.

Sorey took a deep breath, reaching around to grab something from his bag. “Will you hold onto this for me?”

Mikleo took the Celestial Record gently in his hands. He looked pensive for a moment, knowing Sorey was asking about something much more important. “Alright. Just don’t forget about it, okay?”

Sorey smiled. “I won’t.” _As long as I don’t forget, our dream will not end._

It was a new promise.


	5. Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Mikleo looked up at him like he was nothing less than a miracle, those gorgeous amethyst eyes shining with tears, and Sorey wasted no time in pulling him out of the hole and into his arms."

_Sorey,_

_Your light shines so brightly above us all. I guess it's like you in that way._ _I wish I could have said a proper goodbye, but then, it’s not a goodbye at all, is it? Someday, Lailah says, you will wake up and join us again. We'll be waiting for you._

 _It seems like only yesterday that we found a book of poetry from long ago, documenting the life of a seraph and a human. You were so happy, and I still remember the way your eyes sparkled._ _I should have told you then. All that time we had, and I’m sorry that I spent so much of it afraid._

_But I’ll be waiting, no matter how long it takes, and when you wake, I’ll tell you what I promised to tell you. What I should have told you all along._

* * *

Mikleo looked up at him like he was nothing less than a miracle, those gorgeous amethyst eyes shining with tears, and Sorey wasted no time in pulling him out of the hole and into his arms.

“Sorey!” Mikleo gasped, running his hands everywhere he could reach, over his arms and chest and up to his face, as if Sorey was an illusion that could disappear into nothingness at any moment, then collapsed into his chest. “Sorey…” He held on tightly, body trembling.

Sorey felt the beginnings of tears in his eyes, too. He had woken up lost and alone, scared and with the overpowering need to find something, an urge that was finally relieved now that he had Mikleo in his arms. Slowly, his awareness of himself, of Mikleo, of his memories, returned to him, and now he could truly say he was back.

“I’m back, Mikleo,” he said softly, and Mikleo let out a sound that was equal parts laughter and sobbing. “Hey, it’s okay…”

“You’re really here…” Mikleo whispered hoarsely, never letting him go. “I missed you.” Suddenly, Mikleo took him by the shoulders, pushing him back so he could look at him. Sorey was startled, but allowed Mikleo to run his eyes and hands across his face and body again. “Are you okay?” Mikleo’s voice was insistent.

“Huh? I’m fine,” Sorey replied, confused, considering Mikleo had been the one that had nearly fallen down a trap. “What about you?”

Mikleo laughed wetly, grabbing his shoulders even tighter. “I’m perfect. Are you… are you a seraph, now?”

“Oh, um.” Sorey hadn’t actually had time to give his new state of existence much thought. He pulled at the hair of his bangs so he could see the honey-brown tips that he didn't think had been there before. “I think so?”

Mikleo laughed at him again, smoothing back the section of hair Sorey had ruffled in his examination. “You are. And you still… remember me?” The question was hesitant.

“Of course I remember you.” Sorey wanted nothing more than to reassure Mikleo, and he reached out a hand to wipe the tear tracks from Mikleo’s cheeks and cup his jaw. Then he froze, pulling his hand away slowly.

Mikleo’s eyebrows furrowed in concern. “What is it?”

Sorey couldn’t name it, so he said the first thing that came to his head: “You look different.” It was true. Mikleo was clearly older; he was taller, his chest was broader, and he’d grown his hair out in a stunning ponytail that cascaded down his back like a waterfall.

Mikleo smiled. “Six hundred years will do that to you.” His smile turned into something far more self-conscious when Sorey didn’t respond, and he played with his hair nervously. “Sorey?”

“Six hundred years…” Sorey repeated, and he’d known that was a possibility, but that was a long time. What was the world like, now? What was Mikleo like, now? Had he been waiting for him? Had he made new friends? Sorey hoped so, and yet anxiety clawed at him, whispered that six hundred years was more than enough time for those new friends to replace Sorey entirely. Sorey had been with Mikleo all his life, but now there were people that had been with Mikleo even longer, and where did that leave him, then? “I have no idea what I’m walking into here.”

“Hey,” Mikleo’s hand pushed into Sorey’s hair, carding through it gently. “Look at me. We’ll figure it out.” Sorey met his eyes and saw Mikleo’s adoring smile, the same one that he’d known so long ago. “Together, yeah?”

It was then that Sorey knew that his worries had been unfounded. “Yeah,” he nodded, and now he was the one crying, feeling hot tears trail down his cheeks. Mikleo brushed them away, pulling him forward and pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“Mikleo…”

Mikleo’s hands stroked through his hair, down past his ears. He pulled their foreheads together, nudging the tips of their noses together. Their warm breaths mingled between them, and Mikleo’s thumbs skimmed across his skin, carefully mapping out every curve of Sorey’s face. “I’m sorry I kept you waiting so long,” he murmured.

“I think that’s my line,” Sorey replied, feeling another stream of tears falling down his cheeks.

“I guess it’s a tie,” Mikleo said, and in one synchronous movement they had closed the last remaining space between them. Even after waiting all this time, their first kiss was brief, nothing more than a touch of soft lips. Sorey kept his eyes closed, lost in the way Mikleo’s hands cradled his whole face in warmth. Mikleo leaned forward again, meeting his lips in tender caresses, fingers sliding back into his hair, and Sorey responded easily to his gentle lead, his hands finding Mikleo’s slim waist and pulling him even closer. They melted into each other, filling every space that the centuries had left between them, and it was as if they had been made to fit together like this, warm and soft. Each kiss flowed into another in a calming rhythm, and Sorey didn’t know how long they sat in the ruins, brushing lips over all the skin they could reach, but eventually they separated, and Sorey took Mikleo’s hands and watched distractedly as Mikleo bit nervously at his already pink lips.

"I--" He paused, biting his lip. "I love you!” Mikleo blurted it out, squeezing Sorey’s hands tightly and fixing him with the most intense stare Sorey had ever seen. Sorey was still dazed from the kiss, doubly so by the urgency in Mikleo’s tone. He blinked, processing his words. 

And then Sorey laughed, giggles quickly building into uncontrollable hysterics, until he found he couldn’t stay sitting up straight and pressed his forehead into Mikleo’s chest.

Mikleo looked bewildered. “Wha-- what are you--”

“I know, Mikleo,” Sorey interrupted, finally getting a hold of himself. More joyful tears had fallen down his cheeks, and he wiped them away as he sat up again, taking Mikleo’s shoulders back into his hands and smiling broadly, his eyes shining. “I’ve always known.”

“I…” Mikleo’s smile slipped as he shook his head in disbelief. “I waited six hundred years to say that to you and you laugh at me?!” He balled his hand into a fist, lightly smacking at Sorey’s chest, but he didn’t protest when Sorey took the opportunity to hold him close again, body shuddering with laughter, head still shaking against where Sorey had pressed it into his shoulder. “You’re such a… jerk!”

Sorey grinned, sneaking a hand down to Mikleo's waist and tickling until he heard Mikleo squeak. Before Mikleo could protest, Sorey slid a hand to his jaw and pulled him up so he could kiss him again, and Mikleo seemed to consider that an acceptable apology, because he leaned back in without argument, slipping his hands back into Sorey’s hair and letting out a quiet sigh when Sorey pulled away too quickly.

“I love you, too, you know,” Sorey said, peppering kisses across Mikleo’s cheeks, up to his forehead, down to his nose, and then, because he could, because he was _allowed_ to now, he added: “You’re even more beautiful than I remember.”

Mikleo’s face turned bright red, and for a moment he looked more like he had the last time Sorey had seen him, young and easily flustered, and Sorey would always love how cute Mikleo was when he was embarrassed. “You can’t just say things like that.”

Sorey laughed again, and Mikleo relaxed, a grin on his face, and tucked his head into Sorey's neck with a hum.

Because from now on, they _could_ say things like that, and Sorey, at least, wasn’t sure he was ever going to be able to stop.

* * *

_And then, we’ll go on a new journey. Together._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you have it, folks! I like to call this ending... shameless fluff.  
> Thank you guys for sticking around all the way through this! This was all quite a project by my standards, and I appreciate everyone's support!


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